Good Little Soldier
by huntersg1rl
Summary: I'm kinda horrid at summaries, but this is basically an AU where angels and heaven don't exist and Cas is human. Dean was abused (by John. duh) and Sam never knew. Rated M for safety due to themes of abuse (including sexual), self-harm, and drug use. Takes place during season one, just before they find John. Lots of Destiel. Minor (hinted at) Sabriel, but not much.
1. Chapter 1

**Hi! POV will alternate between Dan and Cas, so if two chapters seem really similar, that's why. This is my first angst-y piece. Yes, my other fic has some dark topics, but this one is really dark and torturous.**

 **This takes place just after Dean's 27th birthday, before John has died. Yes, they're hunters, but in this AU, angels and heaven aren't real. Just the monsters. Cas is human and... well, I'm putting up a warning label. Just to be safe.**

 **Warning: Abuse, sexual abuse, drug use, alcoholism, self-harm, and flashbacks to Wee!chesters and Teen!chestersn (more abuse there...). So, if any of this could be triggering for you, proceed with caution. Nothing too severe in these first few chapters, but there will be some later on, so I'm sticking this up now and at the beginning of every chapter. You have been warned.**

* * *

The whiskey burned on the way down, chasing away the nightmare and leaving Dean with a numb feeling. Although, that numbness might actually be the morphine kicking in.

He would call his dreams night terrors, but he's never woken Sam, so that term isn't entirely accurate. Besides, they're more memories than dreams. A glance at the clock tells him Sam should be up in an hour or so. Just long enough for the morphine to fade from his system. He hadn't given himself much and had been doing this for long enough to know just how much to use.

His razor sang to him from his bag, but he knows better. Never use something sharp when numb. He's had to stitch himself up several times because of that foolish mistake.

Another swig of alcohol slides down his throat. Dean doesn't feel the burn. Time slips away while he relaxes on the bed, reveling in the forgetting. When the numbness fades, he knows his hour is up and heaves himself off the bed.

Shower, shave, brush teeth, get dressed, put on socks, shoes, gel hair, and settle in at the table to wait for Sam. Dean doesn't go to get coffee. He can't leave Sam. That's rule number one: protect Sammy. How can he protect Sam if he isn't with him?

Finally- finally, just when Dean is about to cave to the siren call of his razor, Sam's eyes flutter.

"Mornin', Sleeping Beauty." Sam glares and Dean lets out the laugh he knows his brother expects. Sam just strides to the bathroom, bitchface never slipping. As soon as the door closes, Dean lets the fake happiness fall away. Sam can never find out. This would destroy him and then Dean would have failed two rules: be a good little soldier and protect Sammy. Good soldiers show no weakness. Hurting Sam, even emotionally, means Dean failed to protect him.

So Dean sticks a Busty Asian Beauties magazine on the table next to him, leans back, and waits. There's a jiggle of the doorknob a while later and his hands close around the magazine, face forming an expression of interest and contentment.

"All set, Sammy?"

"Coffee," his little brother grunts. Dean hops up, acting exuberant, and leading the way across the street to the diner.

"Hello, I'm Cas, and I'll be your server today," a cute, black-haired, blue-eyed man says. He looks only slightly younger than Dean's 27. The man- Cas- smiles politely at them, but Dean notices how his eyes skim his form for just a moment too long to just be friendly. "Here's your menus and I'll be back in a moment with some water." He hurries off and Dean's eyes catch on his cute, round butt. How can this guy make Dean Winchester think the word 'cute' twice in under a minute?

"Dude, you're staring." Sam gives him a bewildered look. "I know you like picking up our servers, but man, you don't have to pick them _all_ up." And just like that, Dean knows Sam would never approve. Being bisexual is just another one of his failures.

"I wouldn't." Dean rolls his eyes. "Coffee?" He searches the menu for something his brother would anticipate him ordering. Truthfully, he doesn't much feel like eating, but he has to. _Why did I have to eat so much when I was younger?_ If he hadn't eaten like a pig before Sam left for college, he wouldn't have to stuff himself now, even when he feels like a single drop of water could make him vomit.

Cas reappears at the end of their table, dimples standing out on his cheeks as he says, with a smile, "Alright, here's your water. Is there something I can get you started with?" Sam meets Dean's eyes and a moment of silent communication passes.

"Actually, we're ready to order. I'll have a cup of coffee, black, and the vegetarian omelet," Sam orders.

"I'd also like a coffee black and I'll have your pig in a poke with sausage for the side." A little twitch of Cas' lips tells Dean he approves of his order.

"That should be out for you in a bit. I'll be right back with your coffees." The man slips away and this time, Dean watches him more covertly, making sure Sam thinks he's watching the female server. While she is pretty, Cas is much more captivating. True to his word, he puts in their order and immediately pours their coffee to the brim, carrying it over without spilling a drop. Dean doubts he could even get the cup to his lips without spilling. "Here you go. I've just put in your orders, so it'll be a minute before their up. Just flag me down if you need anything."

"Great, thanks," Dean smiles, turning up the wattage to the degree that every woman falls for. And, as he expected, Cas blushes slightly before practically running away.

"You wouldn't do that, huh?" Sam raises his eyebrows.

"What?" Maybe playing innocent here is the best plan. He's got to be more careful, but playing with Cas was fun. That little blush, shy smile, and glance towards the ground was far more captivating than anything he'd seen in a long while. _He's far too good for the likes of me. I could never have a relationship with him. He'd realize too quick that I'm no good for him. And he definitely isn't the type for a one night stand. These little moments are all I'll get._

When Cas next steps out, carrying their food, he looks different. Upset, frustrated, and exhausted all register to Dean. He manages to fake a smile, one Sam believed, as he sets their food down, but Dean can see right through it. It doesn't crinkle the corners of his eyes quite as much as his real smile and his dimples barely show.

"Hey, is something wrong?"

"No, why do you ask?" His voice sounds false to Dean's ears and Sam is looking at Dean like he's lost his mind.

"Something's off about you. What changed in the last ten minutes? And why do you look like you might collapse."

"Dean, leave the poor guy alone," Sam hisses, but Cas looks grateful he has someone to spill to.

"Another one of my servers just called off. I own this place, so when they can't get a cover and choose not to come in, I take their shift. I'm going on my thirteenth hour of serving." Sam's eyes go wide. _How did Dean know that?_ Dean looks up at Cas with concern.

"What time does this shift end?"

''About ten more minutes, why?"

"Well, give me ten minutes to eat, and then I'll take your server's place."

"I can't ask you to do that."

"You're not asking, I'm offering. If you don't take me up on it, I'll do it anyway. Just ask Sam." His brother rolls his eyes, but it's true. Dean's stubborn that way, although he's never done something like this for a complete stranger.

"You might as well agree, Cas. He's stubborn as a mule." Cas sighs.

"If you're certain."

"I'm positive."

"Thanks."

"It's no problem. We weren't going to be doing much today anyway." And just like that, Dean has a chance to flirt with the first guy to catch his attention in a long time without Sam staring. _But now I have to leave Sam alone…_


	2. Chapter 2

**Hey! Here's another chapter! This one is a bit more... um, normal than the last one. I hope you guys like it. Reviews would be wonderful! I love to know what you all think and want to see more of. I'm going to keep with these alternating chapters between Dean and Cas. I like that format, but let me know if you think differently. Also, for about a week, I'll try to post a chapter a day. After that, I'll drop down to one or two a week, but I'm putting my other fic on hold at the moment to get a good start on this one and I really want to get down to working on them both simultaneously, this way no one is missing out!**

 **MarenMary93: You're totally welcome! I'm glad you enjoyed it! It was what I needed to write at the time, too :)**

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Cas had already been on his feet for eight hours when the phone rang. Why did he have to make the diner a 24 hour place? _Because I'm too soft-hearted, worrying about anyone who might be on the road at night._

"Hello?"

"Hi, Cas," a voice croaks, "It's Mike. I can't make it in today. I'm so sorry, man, but I'm sick."

"Don't worry about it. If no one else can take it, I will." _Like I said, soft-hearted._ And even though he calls every worker he has, excluding those who have to work today, none of them can make it. Looks like he'll be taking another shift. Luckily, Mike's shift is only five hours, not eight like some other workers'. So on he works, cranking up his smile, even though he's already tired, and once the twelve hour mark passes, he starts to relax. His smile shifts and becomes real. The end is in sight.

The door dings, signaling another customer. Rough voices, low and sexy, reach his ears, but what they're saying, he can't quite make out. When he turns towards them, he's almost knocked off his feet. _Yeah, I'm awake now._ They're drop-dead gorgeous. The taller one is a bit shaggy, with long hair, and looks like a sweet college kid. The other, however, looks tough, like someone who takes no shit and dishes what you give him. And those eyes- well, he must be a lady killer. _Unless he swings my way. However unlikely that is._ Cas considers the man carefully, notices the way his eyes roll over every woman in the place before sweeping to scan the exits. He sits facing the door, sitting and acting like a soldier. _Yeah, definitely straight._ Still, he has a job to do and they're sitting in his section.

"Hello, I'm Cas, and I'll be your server today," he smiles like he would for any other customer, handing them their menus. They don't seem to notice that his hands trembled slightly. What's so special about this guy? Sure, he's stunning, but there's other sexy-as-sin guys out there. "Here's your menus and I'll be back in a moment with some water." _Get it together, Cas!_ But how can he keep it together when that man was so clearly checking him out? Letting his eyes slide down his body like he had with the women then back up to look at his dimples? How can he? _More importantly, how can he be interested in me?_ He picks up the two water cups, takes a slow deep breath, and turns back to see the two men having what almost looks like an argument. The tall shaggy one looks confused and slightly upset while the maybe-not-straight one is tenser than should be possible. _I could offer to help him relax… No! Seriously, Cas, control yourself. He's hot, not your boyfriend. And you don't do one night stands… but maybe I could._

"Alright, here's your water. Is there something I can get you started with?" And no, he definitely wasn't thinking about a potential double meaning there. He forces himself to keep his smile friendly. Shaggy college kid orders, followed by Cas' dream guy. That moment of silent communication between them before the kid says they're ready to order tells Cas more than anything. They've been through something bad. And, if instinct is still going strong, the older soldier-like one sheltered the college kid from the worst of it. As he walks away, he can feel eyes burning into him. And it happens again after he drops off their coffees. Like he needs another distraction after that soul-searing smile.

But then the phone rings and mystery-man will just have to be forgotten. Because there is no way he'll be willing to wait another eight hours for Cas to get off shift. The exhaustion returns with a vengeance, tied in with a boatload of frustration and sadness. Who would ever want to work for twenty one hours straight? No one, that's who. But no one can come in to cover, yet again. So here Cas is, cursing his stupid soft heart, and dragging aching feet back to the duo's table with their food.

"Hey, is something wrong?" Wait- did the hot guy notice something is bothering him? How?

"No, why do you ask?" His voice sounds false even to his own ears, but the shaggy guy is looking at his friend like he's lost his mind.

"Something's off about you. What changed in the last ten minutes? And why do you look like you might collapse."

"Dean, leave the poor guy alone," Sam hisses, but Cas is just grateful to a) know the hot man's name and b) get to dish his problems to someone.

"Another one of my servers just called off. I own this place, so when they can't get a cover and choose not to come in, I take their shift. I'm going on my thirteenth hour of serving." College kid's eyes widen in horror and Dean- what a perfect name for him- looks utterly concerned.

"What time does this shift end?" What?

''About ten more minutes, why?" Really- why does he care?

"Well, give me ten minutes to eat, and then I'll take your server's place." He's joking, right? He totally is. Besides, Cas can't afford to take on another worker.

"I can't ask you to do that." Please don't have a comeback for that.

"You're not asking, I'm offering. If you don't take me up on it, I'll do it anyway. Just ask Sam." Oh, of course he has to be logical. Anyway, who is Sam to Dean? A partner, lover, family member? Who? _Wait. What was this conversation about?_

"You might as well agree, Cas. He's stubborn as a mule." Cas sighs. Right. Dean offering to take the empty shift.

"If you're certain." _I can't afford to pay you!_

"I'm positive."

"Thanks." _Thank God I don't have to be on my feet another eight hours._

"It's no problem. We weren't going to be doing much today anyway." Dean smiles and Cas feels his insides melt. Again. _I can go sit and do paperwork. Ten more minutes. I think my feet will survive that long._ With the end in sight, Cas perks right back up.


	3. Chapter 3

**Here ya go, chapter number 3. Let me know what you think!**

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"Hello, my name is Dean, and I'll be your server today," Dean tries his hardest to keep his voice kind and smooth, "here's your menus and I'll be back in a moment with some water." Cas still hasn't shown any hint that he's noticed Dean is copying him word for word.

"Thank you, Dean," the gaggle of girls chorus. They giggle as he walks away. Normally, he'd flirt with them, even though they're definitely jailbait, but not today. No, today the focus is Cas. More importantly, convincing him to have what will probably be his first one night stand ever with Dean.

"You okay over there?" Cas asks from his perch along the counter. He looks up from his paperwork.

"I'll never survive it," Dean jokes, "teenagers are just so crafty. Save me, Cas." They both laugh, but Cas does blush, just a little. To any onlooker, it wouldn't have been noticeable, but Dean saw it plain as day.

"I'll ride in on my white horse if you need me," Cas teases.

"My prince." Dean sets a hand over his heart, batting his lashes before picking up the tray of waters. He starts to walk away but turns back, a little pout on his face. "Wait a minute. That makes me the princess in the tower."

"Go take those girls their water and eye candy, Rapunzel." This time, Cas has Dean blushing. Or he would've if men blushed. _Soldiers don't blush,_ Dean reminds himself, _so I most definitely did not._ When all the girls turn to watch his approach, he stifles a sigh and decides to play along with their game. Besides, maybe he'll get a bigger tip out of it. _Oh, yeah, sure. That's why you're flirting with girls._ He lifts his hand and gives a small finger wave, flashing a panty-dropping smile. The teens giggle and sigh, watching intently.

"Alright, ladies, here's your waters. Do you know what you'd like to drink?" It takes a few of them a few seconds to come out of their stupor, but they all manage to place an order with minimal stuttering.

"Wow, you really do have them under your spell." Cas turns towards Dean. "I'd anticipate a big tip. Or a stack of phone numbers."

"Phone numbers I'll never use. Those girls are jailbait and I'm not falling for it."

"Oh, definitely not," Cas says with an over-exaggerated shake of his head.

"I'll have you know, I've got my eye on a different prize for tonight."

"Is that so? And what prize would that be?"

"Wouldn't you like to know, Prince Charming." Dean winks and finishes getting the drinks, walking them over calmly. He puts a little strut in his stride, making sure Cas gets a nice view of his ass. Because no way can he not feel those eyes searing holes through him. _Could use them in place of a knife to take our clothes off some night._

Wait- some night? No. Dean Winchester only does one night, not some nights. So no. That's a no go. He won't stick around for long enough to find out if that stare really can burn through his clothes.

"And here are your drinks. Now, have you had enough time to decide on your meal?" They order and he returns to Cas, noticing his eyelids start to droop. Now, that just won't do.

"Hey, sleepy. Come on, up and at 'em. I think it's probably time for a break." Dean sends the order back to the kitchen and, seeing as it's his only table, signals to the on-shift manager that he's taking his break. He only receives a token protest as he pulls the papers out from under Cas.

"Dean, what are you doing?"

"Making you take a break. You need to," Dean informs his target, one arm wrapped around his waist as he practically carries the man to the back of the diner.

"But-"

"No. You're going to collapse. It's two hours into my shift, which means you've been up for over fifteen hours. Assuming you were awake for an hour or two before that, it's probably more like seventeen hours. Although that's a low estimate. You need sleep." They get to the back and Dean notices a couch. _Perfect._ He settles Cas onto it and the man peers curiously into his eyes.

"Why are you being so nice to me?"

"I like you, Cas. You seem like a good guy." Dean leans in to add in a low whisper, "Doesn't hurt that you're amazingly sexy, too."

"I'm who you're trying to woo today?"

"Woo might not be the right word, but yes. I want you."

"Oh."

"Didn't expect that?"

"No, I didn't. But I like you, too." Dean smiles into blue eyes.

"I know, Cas. Now, sleep. We won't get to have some fun later unless you're able to be awake for it."

"Wake me after your shift?"

"Of course." Dean returns to the diner, a warm glow inside from taking care of Cas. _It should be Sammy you're taking care of, you stupid shit. You know rule number one._ Dean tries to shake the negative thoughts out of his head, but now that Cas is out of the room, it feels as if they've come back with a vengeance. Why did they leave him alone when Cas was here? Is Cas just so distracting that he can't even think about how worthless he is? _It's not like you have a brain anyway. You didn't even make it through high school._ His pocket knife starts whispering to him again from its place in his pocket. He tries to tune it out, but the low hum of its words is always there, just under the real world.

Dean lifts a tray laden with food. No. He won't give in to it. He will stand strong. Besides, Cas shouldn't have to see how broken he is on their first time together. _Your only time together. Even if that wasn't your rule, he wouldn't want you for any longer than that._ Dean strides to the back to check on Cas, make sure he actually went to sleep instead of continuing the paperwork. With his eyes closed and at rest, his face is so smooth and peaceful. Beautiful. _You'll break him, destroy him, just like you will Sammy. One night, Dean, and then walk away. Leave him in peace._


	4. Chapter 4

Cas listens closely as Dean approaches another table.

"Hello, my name is Dean, and I'll be your server today. Here's your menus and I'll be back in a moment with some water." Each and every time, he has quoted Cas. Exactly word for word. The group of girls stare up at him, giggling and flirting shamelessly. As Dean walks away from the table, they whisper to each other excitedly. Dean seems slightly uncomfortable around them, so Cas speaks up.

"You okay over there?" He lets his eyes lift from the papers in front of him for the first time since Dean started walking back.

"I'll never survive it," Dean's eyes flash with mirth as he jokes, "teenagers are just so crafty. Save me, Cas." Cas' breath hitches at the way Dean says his name, but he banters back as if he didn't even notice. Okay, maybe that's not true, but he does have a response by the time they stop laughing. Hopefully, Dean didn't notice his blush.

"I'll ride in on my white horse if you need me." _White horse? Really?_ Great, now he's totally offended the man. _Who do you think you are, Prince Charming?_ But then, Dean speaks.

"My prince." Dean chuckles slightly as he starts to walk away, but then he pauses and turns back. "Wait a minute. That makes me the princess in the tower." He voice has a teasing whine to it and Cas knows, instantly, that Dean isn't upset about the joke. Instead, he's continuing the metaphor.

"Go take those girls their water and eye candy, Rapunzel," Cas sighs, melting a little at the blush on Dean's cheeks. Man, those cheekbones are impressive. But, then again, they're nothing compared to that jawline. A man could slice his hand open on it. Dean sets the glasses in front of the girls, handling their banter easily and flashing a flirty smile. _Wait. He's flirting with them. Knew he wasn't into you._ Why had he even hoped? Now he just got let down and that hurts even more.

"Wow, you really do have them under your spell." Cas might be more than a little hurt, but Dean doesn't have to know that. "I'd anticipate a big tip. Or a stack of phone numbers." Cas waits for the agreement he knows will hurt. A statement said with a little chuckle and interested glance towards one of the girls.

"Phone numbers I'd never use," Dean surprises him, "those girls are jailbait and I'm not falling for it."

"Oh, definitely not," Cas sneers, shaking his head in a sarcastic manner. Even though he means the words he said, he covers it up with the exaggerated shake.

"I'll have you know, I've got my eye on a different prize for tonight."

"Is that so? And what prize would that be?"

"Wouldn't you like to know, Prince Charming." Dean winks and finishes getting the drinks he needs, walking them over to the table. There's an extra swing in his hips that must be on purpose. Cas tries to force his eyes away, knowing Dean must be able to feel the weight of his stare, but finds himself unable to. _The man is too gorgeous for his own good._ Just as Dean is starting to walk back, Cas feels his eyelids begins to droop. _Dang it! No, not now. Things were just getting interesting._

"Hey, sleepy. Come on, up and at 'em. I think it's probably time for a break." Dean sends the order back to the kitchen and, likely because it's his only table, returns to Cas. He snags the papers out from under him and Cas can only put up a token protest. _Guess I was more tired than I thought._

"Dean, what are you doing?"

"Making you take a break. You need to." Dean's voice is protective and demanding. Even though Cas has a feeling he won't be able to argue, he tries anyway.

"But-" He's cut off before he can even finish his sentence.

"No. You're going to collapse. It's two hours into my shift, which means you've been up for over fifteen hours. Assuming you were awake for an hour or two before that, it's probably more like seventeen hours. Although that's a low estimate. You need sleep." They get to the back and Cas eyes the couch. That's probably where Dean will stick him. _What does he want from me?_

"Why are you being so nice to me?"

"I like you, Cas. You seem like a good guy." Dean leans in to add in a low whisper, "Doesn't hurt that you're amazingly sexy, too."

"I'm who you're trying to woo today?"

"Woo might not be the right word, but yes. I want you."

"Oh."

"Didn't expect that?"

"No, I didn't. But I like you, too." Dean smiles into blue eyes.

"I know, Cas. Now, sleep. We won't get to have some fun later unless you're able to be awake for it."

"Wake me after your shift?"

"Of course." Cas' eyes fall shut as Dean walks away. Ten minutes later, when Dean opens the door to check on him, Cas doesn't even flinch against the light from the diner. He just keeps on sleeping, dreaming about a man with candy apple green eyes and a smile made to melt hearts. He dreams about the little blush, the flirty words, and the deep tenor of his voice. Each little piece of the mystery man named Dean makes Cas want to melt into a puddle of goo at his feet. _Too bad you don't do one night stands._


	5. Chapter 5

**Hey! Sorry this one took so long to get up. The next chapter should be here in a day or two. I had a pretty hectic week last week, but you don't want to hear excuses, I'm sure. Anyway, here you go, chapter five!**

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Dean hesitates, watching Cas sleep. For a moment, he doesn't want to wake him up. _You left Sammy alone for eight hours to stay with this random guy and now you're not even going to keep your promise? Pathetic. Worthless._ The last two words spark the need for a drink, a hit, a cut. Instead, he muscles it down, steps up, and keeps his promise.

"Cas? You ready to get up?" The man grumbles, face scrunching up. _Just like Sammy._ "Come on, on your feet. You made me promise to get you up. So up you go." Dean tugs him from laying down, to sitting, and up into a standing position.

"Don' wanna get up."

"Yes, you do." Dean chuckles. Cas is complaining just like Sam used to the days they had to start a new school. "Besides, you're already up and I'm sure you're hungry." The blue eyes finally open.

"You're hungry?" Okay, where he got that from, Dean has no clue, but who can argue with someone who's practically sleep walking?

"I could eat." There's a flicker in the blue eyes and they snap from half asleep to entirely awake in an instant.

"Let me cook for you," Cas says almost pleadingly, "My apartment is over the diner, just upstairs." Excitement flares on the man's face and Dean finds himself incapable of saying 'no.' _Really, Dean? What if Sam needs you? You've been gone eight hours. Dinner will be another hour and you know you never leave it at dinner._ Dean goes tense, but Cas doesn't seem to notice Dean's hand tightening around his. No, this beautiful mystery is too wrapped up in deciding what to make.

An hour later, they stand at the sink together, rinsing dishes. Dean had managed to skirt the conversation around his job- vampires aren't good dinner conversation (or guests, for that matter)- but they bond over their absent fathers and missing mothers. Neither had expressly stated their mother had died, but they understood anyway.

"How long are you going to be in town?"

"Probably a week, at most." _Ask me to stay longer._

"Will you ever be coming back?" _Close enough._ Dean's heart stutters a moment.

"It's not likely. We rarely visit the same place twice."

"Oh." There's a small pause. "This might sound silly, but…" Cas pauses. _Nothing you say would ever sound silly. Not with that voice._ "I'd like to see you again while you're in town." Dean's mind begins to race; all he can think is that he isn't good enough for Cas. _It's just a week._ Cas will know, going in, that Dean is leaving at the end of the week. That he's likely never coming back. _Agreeing means leaving Sammy. Is that really what you want to do?_

"You know, I think I'd like that. What time are you available tomorrow?" _Wrong decision, stupid._

"Six, if that works for you. For dinner." Cas does that cute little half shrug people do when they're nervous.

"That should work." Dean turns towards Cas as the shorter man puts away the last plate. Cas leans back against the counter. Dean moves into his space, cornering him. "I knew you weren't a one-night man," he whispers, "and now we have five. Or more." Time vanishes, suspended around them is only silence and the vibrant rings of their eyes. Cas tilts his head back, Dean leans in, and time crashes back around them almost frantically. Dean's arms wrap around the smaller man, lifting him for a moment. He sets Cas gently on the nearest chair. Dean's lips skin across his cheek to his ear.

"Five nights, baby. Tonight is all you." _I don't deserve anything tonight, anyway._

"Wh-what?" But Dean is gone from his ear, sliding down. The creases in the tile floor hurt- a good hurts against his knees. _Good._

"All you tonight," Dean whispers one more time. Then he leans in, taking his time and giving Cas everything he has. When Cas finishes, Dean pulls away with a small smile. He lifts Cas into his arms and carries him to his room. Only after carefully undressing, cleaning, and helping him into boxers does Dean tuck him into bed. Just like before, he is so sweet in his sleep. _He looks like an angel._ Dean brushes the hair off his forehead, taking a moment to admire Cas. A warm contentment fills Dean as he presses a soft kiss to Cas' temple. He moves on silent feet out of the room, flicking the lights off and closing the door. After walking through the apartment to lock up and leaving a note to tell Cas where to find the spare key, Dean leaves and returns to the motel.

"Dean?"

"Hiya, Sammy." _Oh, yeah, sure. Pretend everything's okay after you left your little brother alone ALL DAY._

"Good day?" Sam smirks knowingly at him. Dean forces a lecherous smile to split his lips. What Sam doesn't know, won't hurt him in this case.

"Very." His mind replays Cas snuggled in his arms, eyes drifting shut, and the warmth returns. Dean saunters to the bathroom for a cold shower- not that Sam ever has to know it will be cold.

They run down the job before bed. According to Sam, it's a pretty obvious answer: vampire nest. Of course, that leaves them with the tricky task of locating the nest. With the vampires having taken victim number three two nights ago, they don't have much time to find the nest or some other poor soul will be nabbed.

Despite the angry murmurs in his mind, for the first time since he was twelve, Dean sleeps through the night with no cravings surging within him, demanding to be sated, and no nightmares screaming through his brain.

 _Are you sure you'll be able to leave him at the end of the week?_


	6. Chapter 6

One week. Conversation between us flows more easily than between Gabe, my best friend, and I. And we only get a week. I want so badly to ask for a straight answer on his job. Why will he never be coming back? Does he actually have a job? Or is he on the run? _You could be consorting with a criminal._ Yeah, thoughts like that are so not helping. Cas reaches up and puts away the last dish. Cas leans back against the counter, feeling the corner pressing into his hips on either side.

Dean moves suddenly, planting his hands on either side of Cas and leaning in to whisper, "I knew you weren't a one-night man." His voice is low and rumbling. "And now we have five, or more." Dean's eyes connect with his and Cas falls into the brilliant green, tumbling into nothing. And then Dean is kissing him. The world goes from silent and still to racing and screaming. His heartbeat thrums, drowning everything else out. Cas notices when Dean pulls away that he is sitting. _When did that happen?_ Dean says something.

"W-what?" _Smooth, Cas._ Dean slides away from where his lips are pressed against the shell of Cas' ear and down onto his knees. _The tile… that can't feel good._

"All you tonight," Dean murmurs and takes over, making Cas lose himself and his mind. When Dean finally releases him some short eternity later, Cas is already halfway asleep. _God, that was good._ He is vaguely aware of being carried bridal-style to his bedroom. Dean forces him to stay standing as he cares for him, ending the night with a sweet tuck into bed. Cas' head meets the pillow and any facade of being conscious is gone. As he sleeps, he dreams only of forests of the truest green and the silhouette of a man awash in mystery.

A brilliant ringing sound wakes him up. His alarm. _Work, right. I have to do that._ Cas heaves himself out of bed and into a uniform. Despite being the owner, if he's working, he wears the same uniform all his workers wear. It's simple, at least. Black slacks (or skirt) with a white polo and red apron. Cliche maybe, but functional. Fully dressed and fed with his hair combed and teeth brushed, Cas makes his way down to his office.

"Morning, Cas!" Gabe calls.

"Morning!" Gabe is his head chef and best friend since kindergarten. Gabe is a year older than him, but neither of them cared back then and does it really even matter now? They're practically brothers.

"So, a little birdie told me that you were hitting on a hottie yesterday," Gabe smirks and leans against the office doorway. "Would they be making that up?"

"Well…" Cas sighs. Gabe will weasel it out of him soon enough anyway. "Yes. I was flirting and then we had a date. And maybe a little more. He's coming back tonight at six, so you'll get to see him for yourself."

"Wait- back up. Did you say a little more? You? More than just a goodnight kiss?" Cas blushes. "Look at you growing up." Gabe leaps forward, tousling Cas' hair and thumping him on the back. "I'm proud of you, little bro."

"Whatever." Cas rolls his eyes. _Gabe is never going to let this go._

"Does this look like it could be long term?" Gabe waves his hand in the air. "Who am I kidding? You only do long term."

"Actually," Cas corrects with a little flinch. "He's just passing through town. We get until the end of the week. Five days, at most."

"Really? And you agreed to that?" Gabe starts pinching him, turning his hands over to inspect and then clutches Cas' cheeks. "Who are you and what have you done with Cas?"

"Seriously, Gabe?"

"Seriously, Cas. This is utterly unlike you."

"I feel connected to him. I need to be around him for as long as he's here, even if it means we only have five nights and then go our separate ways." _Never to see each other again._

"He doesn't think he'll be coming back to town? Ever?"

"No, he said that he and his brother almost never end up in the same town twice."

"Damn, Cassie. You going to be okay?" Cas glares.

"I'll be fine."

"Uh-huh. Sure. Because that face you made when you said that totally screams that you're fine."

"I knew going into this that it wouldn't last, that we might even only get one night."

"Better just one night than five. You're going to get attached."

"You don't know that."

"No, but I know you." Gabe puts a hand on Cas' shoulder. "I can't tell you what to do, but I can recommend that you not do this. Don't get hurt, Cassie."

"I'll be okay, Gabe. I swear. It shouldn't be much more than dinner and… well, you know."

Cas' shift drags on forever. The clock seems to be ticking backwards instead of forward. _When will six get here?_ Lunch passes and then all he has to do is paperwork. Somehow, he suffers through page after page until it's suddenly four o'clock and he can go upstairs to get ready. _Thank God. I was going to go insane._ Okay, maybe he's already a little attached.

After a short shower, getting rid of the stink of the diner, Cas dresses in a pair of slacks, a white button-down shirt, and a blue tie. He brushes his teeth and slicks back his hair neatly. A short debate over whether or not to start making dinner ends with the decision not to. _Waiting could buy me more time with him._

"Gabe!" Cas sticks his head into the kitchen and waves his friend into his office.

"If you're going to do something like asking me if your outfit is okay, I'm going to have to smack some sense into you."

"That's not it. He's going to be here any minute. Would you mind taking your dinner and bringing him back to my office when he gets here?"

"How will I know if it's him?"

"I'm sure the waitresses will make it pretty obvious." It's seven minutes later when Gabe arrives at the door of his office, looking impressed. Dean is dressed in a simple black button down, neatly tucked into his jeans. Compared to what he had seen Dean in yesterday, this must be dressing up for him. _He's gorgeous. Maybe Gabe was right. My heart might not survive this week._


	7. Chapter 7

**Hi, guys! Sorry this took me so long to write. My creativity hasn't really been flowing and I just didn't like any of the ways I ended the chapter, so I kept re-doing it. This one, finally, sits alright with me. We're finally going to see John and Dean interact.**

* * *

"You left your brother alone? Are you kidding me, Dean? What were you thinking?" The single punch to the gut is far less than Dean deserves, he knows that, but anything more and Sam would definitely notice- something John won't risk. Besides, it's been nearly a year since they left Cas and his quaint town. "You're worthless. Can't even protect your brother right." John spits on the ground in front of Dean before going to "play nice" with his favorite son. No doubt, John would have done worse had Sam still been in school. Those were the worst four years of Dean's life. _No Sam and an eternally drunk John_. Dean shivers and stumbles to the car, sliding behind the wheel. John will tell Sam that Dean is on a supply run, which Dean will inevitably need to get to in a few minutes, but first a need pulses through him.

The silver steel glints in his hand, somewhere on a long driveway in the middle of nowhere. _Finally._ The word breathes through his mind as blood shines, pain sings, and relief hugs him tight. Again and again, the blade breaks the skin of his leg. When the emotions are entirely banished, he lets it fall and his mind wander.

"Cas," he whispers. His diner is doing well, according to both the website and Yelp. Dean checks once a week on the town, making sure Cas hasn't moved, gotten hurt, or been anywhere near a monster. The day he had left…

" _If you ever-_ ever- _need anything," Dean looks down into blue eyes, "call. I'll be there."_

" _But you aren't coming back." Two little lines appear between Cas' brows._

" _If you need me, I will. All you have to do is ask."_

" _You should know, that works in reverse, too. Call, send an email, or show up on my doorstep- when you need something, I'm here."_

" _That's- good, ah, good to know." Dean looks away, avoiding eye contact._

" _Dean," Cas whispers, his voice thick with emotion. Dean's eyes flash to his._

" _I have to go."_

" _I know. I'll miss you."_

" _I'll miss you, too." From Dean, that's as good as an admission of love. His hand pulls Cas into him. Their lips meet one last time. Unlike every other kiss they shared, this one is sweet and gentle. There is still desperation, but no lust, not like before. No, this kiss is a goodbye without words. Dean pulls away, keeping his eyes closed and walks to the car._

 _He doesn't look back._

God, why didn't he look back? He should've. Should've taken one last look at Cas' face. But the heartbreak scrawled across it would've broken him. _More than I already am._ What good would that've done?

Baby starts with a rumble. The trees turn into houses and stores and Dean parks. He buys plenty of supplies; beer, pie, beef jerky, turkey, cereal, peanut butter, bread, and bananas. Toiletries end up in the basket, some sewing needles, and dental floss. After checking out, Dean sits in the car for a moment, then opens the glove compartment and opens a small black pouch containing his morphine. Five doses left, but who knows when John will leave? So he places a call. Twenty minutes later, he's ten doses richer and halfway back to the cabin. _Thank God my guy is quick._ The drive back isn't near long enough.

"There you are," John says, faking a smile for Sam. "What took so long?" Danger lurks in John's eyes, but Dean plays along.

"Some crazy traffic on the way there. Cleared up on the way back, otherwise I might've been another hour." Dean keeps his voice mostly calm, allowing only some mild annoyance to color it.

"Must've been people trying to beat the rush for the holiday. Memorial day is Monday," Sam informs both of them.

"In that case, I'll run to town Monday morning and grab some steaks. We can grill," John decides, as if they're the Brady Bunch. Sam wanders off to his room, probably to search for a case. _Don't leave me with him._ "Was that really the best you could come up with? Really, Dean? Traffic?"

"He believed it, that's what matters."

"What did take you so long, anyway? Took you that long to recover from one little punch? Maybe you need some training. With that recovery time, it's a wonder you last more than a minute in a hunt." John grabs his arm and drags Dean outside, forcing him through the woods. _No, no, please, no._ This used to happen, but never when Sam was around. Never. Only when he was going to be gone for a while- particularly at school. John's fist slams down, over and over. _Why is he doing this? Sam will notice!_ John leans forward, "You stupid waste of space." Alcohol rides his breath. _He's drunk._ He hits Dean on the temple and Dean falls to his knees. John starts kicking him. There's a soft rustling, like something moving through the woods, but John takes no heed.

"Dad? Dean? What the fuck? Get away from him!" Sam starts to run over.

"Sammy, stop," Dean croaks.

"We're just sparing, Sam," John lies.

"Sparing? Really, Dad? This looks more like a beat-down."

"Sammy, leave it," Dean tries again to get him to leave. Sam looks at him this time- really looks.

"This isn't the first time, is it? The first time he hit you? How long, Dean?" He turns to John. "How long have you been doing this?"

"He's supposed to protect you," John snarls, "and he left you alone." Dean watches Sam freeze, remembering all the times Dean would have a bruise that seemed out of place, every time Dean flinched from John, every time John seemed angry at Dean.

"He was a kid!" Sam explodes and punches John as hard as he can, taking him down in one blow. His anger doesn't disappear when he looks at Dean. Then, Dean flinches. John is standing up.

"You're as stupid as your brother." Sam frowns and then his eyes go wide. John's boot had connected. Dean can't do anything, can't stop John as he attacks Sam. His little brother fights back, but John doesn't go down this time. They had both forgotten just how ferocious John is in a true fight. When Sam falls and John follows him, Dean stumbles to his feet. He has to stop this. His little switchblade opens in his hand, his blood from earlier still on it. He'd forgotten to clean it. He raises his arm and brings it down.


	8. Chapter 8

**Hate me if you must.**

* * *

Cas putters around his office, moving listlessly. This past year had been the hardest of his life and all because of five days and one man. The green eyes glitter behind his eyelids every time he closes his eyes. Every time he sees someone in a long leather jacket and flannel, he assumes it's Dean. It never is. Dean, true to his word, isn't coming back but tell that to Cas' heart. It won't seem to stop believing that he will, someday, return for his "one true love." _God, Cas, this isn't a fucking fairy tale._ No, there are no knights in shining armor riding white horses. But then, that isn't exactly what he's been dreaming of.

He shakes his head. _Focus, Cas. The paperwork._ Oh, yeah, like that won't bore him to death. But, late as it is, he needs to get it done. The summer is just about to draw to a close, so the college students keeping his staff afloat are leaving town- and the diner. He'll have to start picking up extra shifts alongside the rest of the waitstaff until he can find some people to take the open positions. What this really means is that he can't sit in his office all day and do the paperwork then. He has to stay after and get them done after the diner closes. He sits- _when had he started pacing?-_ and stares down blankly at the papers on his desk. Before Dean, he had thought the desk was stupid, just something to work on. After Dean, he knew it held infinite possibilities.

His pen scratches along the paper, trailing blue ink in its wake, shapes that make letters grouped into words that form sentences that answer each question appropriately. An hour later, as he stumbles up the stairs to go to bed, pain explodes in his head, rather suddenly, unlike a typical headache. Cas brushes the odd occurance off- or tries to, at least. It's not the first time something like this had happened. Burning pains in his arms and sides, like from a knife or bullet, though rather dulled, had plagued him over the year. He had no rational explanation and refused to believe that it was his connection to Dean. After all, what job would Dean have that was so dangerous? Besides, that stuff only happens in fairy tales. _And this isn't a fairy tale._

Settling into bed, he closes his eyes and allows himself to remember the day Dean had left.

" _If you ever-_ ever- _need anything," Dean says, emerald eyes burning into Cas', "call. I'll be there."_

" _But you aren't coming back." Cas frowns, confused. Would he really come for him?_

" _If you need me, I will. All you have to do is ask."_

" _You should know, that works in reverse, too. Call, send an email, or show up on my doorstep- when you need something, I'm here." Always and forever, Dean would be welcome in Cas' home and heart._

" _That's- good, ah, good to know." Dean looks away, avoiding eye contact. Why?_

" _Dean," Cas whispers, his voice thick with some emotion he can't quite place. Definitely a mixture; there's sadness and regret, but also something else. Dean's eyes flash to his._

" _I have to go."_ Please don't.

" _I know. I'll miss you."_ Stay with me. I'm not ready for this, not ready to let you go.

" _I'll miss you, too." What else could Cas have expected him to say? A confession of undying love? Dean reaches out and pulls Cas into him. Their lips meet one last time. Unlike every other kiss they shared, this one is sweet and gentle. There is still desperation, but no lust, not like before. No, this kiss is a goodbye without words. Dean pulls away, keeping his eyes closed even as Cas allows his to flutter open. He watches Dean walk to his car, head down._ Please look back.

 _He doesn't look back._

Cas' dreams allow him no peace that night. He, like every night, dreams of Dean and their times together and times they had yet to have. Buying a house together rather than sleeping in the apartment over the diner. Going on trips around the country in Dean's Baby. Introducing Dean to his parents and them absolutely loving him. Various first confessions of love, ranging from over sweet romantic dinners, to whispered words before bed or work, to suddenly blurted out during sex, to the closing words of an intense fight that is resolved peacefully later. Tonight, though, he wakes from dreaming of Dean coming back to him, a smile on his gorgeous face, eyes glittering with joy under a grease smudged face and matching clothes as he drives his Baby, black and beautiful, into town to see Cas.

He wakes with a start when he realizes the sound of a car pulling into the diner lot isn't just in his dream. Is it fear or hope or some strange combination of both that pins him to his bed as he listens to the car turn off and heavy footsteps mount his stairs? They sound groggy and uneven, and each almost seems to be a struggle. _You're overthinking this._ Could it be Dean? The steps stop.

There's a knock on the door.


	9. Chapter 9

**I know, you want the reunion. It's coming- obviously. But how they end up there is just as important. Also, I feel the need to point out that this chapter (minus this bolded note) is exactly 1,200 words and I'm quite proud of that feat.**

He stumbled back, utterly unable to take his eyes off John. The knife had hit it's mark, buried in the stretch of muscle between John's shoulder and neck. The older man had collapsed, agony bursting through him from where the blade had struck a major nerve. The world within Dean was perfectly still. He couldn't hear John screaming or Sam calling his name, couldn't feel the blood drip down his face or the broken bones across his body, and suddenly, he wasn't even seeing anymore. His thoughts had frozen.

What had he done? What was he thinking? He shouldn't have attacked John. He should have just taken the hits. He should have made sure Sam wouldn't follow them. If he had made sure Sam wouldn't see, John wouldn't have turned his anger on him. Sam would've been safe. How could he let this happen to Sam? Sam didn't deserve this, didn't deserve to know the pain of John's anger. He didn't deserve to feel guilty for what John had done to Dean so many times.

Sam grabbed Dean's arm, yelling, "Dean, come on, man, let's go! Dean! We need to leave, please." The "please" yanked Dean from his thoughts and back into the stark reality.

"Come on," he grunted, holding Sam close. Dean paused for a moment, reaching down to grab his switchblade before guiding Sammy back to the car. "We've only got a minute. Run and grab your things. Quick as you can, now, Sam, go." The bigger man runs, skipping steps up into the cabin. Dean follows as fast as he can move. Something is definitely wrong with his leg, but he'll have to deal with it later. Just as he had many times in the past, he pushes the pain aside. _Focus on Sam. Keep him safe._ He limps to his still-packed bag and slings it over his less painful shoulder and stumbles out to the car. His bag falls into the trunk just as Sam jogs from the house. His brother piles his few bags into the trunk on top of Dean's. They fold themselves into the front seat and Dean starts Baby without a second thought, throwing her into reverse and pulling away, all the while scanning the woods for John. He should have been recovered by now, after all, Dean is up and moving and he's in much worse shape. Though, Sam did get a few good licks in, to the head, no less. So maybe those blows are making it hard for John to move. Either way, Dean is glad to finally be able to escape.

"Dean, what was that?" Sam asks after a while. They've been driving non-stop for the last few hours.

"That was Dad. The real him, not the happy face he put on for you," Dean responds after debating what to say. "I'm sorry you had to find out."

"That wasn't exactly the nicest way to find out your dad is an abusive asshole to your brother, but really Dean, why didn't you tell me sooner?"

"Why do you think, Sammy? I had to protect you."

"He threatened me?"

"No. I was right. Finding this out is going to destroy you. You're already tearing yourself apart with guilt. You couldn't have known, Sammy. We never would've told you. Besides, it's John. He's your Dad. You had no reason to believe he would've done something like that."

"I never would've figured it out because you seemed to worship the man."

"I did what I had to do to try to keep up appearances and limit how bad it was. I had control over that. Finding him last year was more about duty than love. Sam, you had to know that."

"I think I always knew he treated you more like a soldier and that was how you saw yourself, but I didn't think it was entirely that way. But now- some things make sense. The way you always did what he said. You always hovered, stayed close to me, and kept me from the worst of the hunts."

"I would've done that anyway."

"Yeah, I'm sure, but what he did definitely plays into that. And how you got so upset when I left for college. You seemed destroyed. I didn't think anything of it, thought you were just being clingy, but... How bad did it get, Dean?"

"The worst four years of my life." Dean confirms Sam's worst fear after a few minutes of silence. Sam curls into himself slightly. "You can't let the guilt eat you, Sammy. Let it run it's course, then let it go. You didn't know and we never let on, never gave a clue. So don't feel guilty." Sam nods, but remains silent, watching towns pass by them outside the window. They drive for several more hours before stopping. Sam goes in to get snacks while Dean sneaks around to use the bathroom without anyone seeing him. He knows he looks like hell warmed over and chooses to ignore the mirror before hobbling back to the car, where he refuels quickly and waits for Sam. Sam only takes a few minutes getting food and toiletries for them. After dropping them off, his taller brother hurries off to use the bathroom before having to get back in the car for another long several hours.

His brother waits three full hours before finally asking the question Dean had been waiting for. "Where are we going?"

"Cas." The one word tells Sam everything. "I am, at least. I'm going to stash you somewhere safe, somewhere John can't find you."

"You're leaving me at the Roadhouse. With Ellen."

"How'd you guess?"

"It's the closest safe place to Cas."

"Yeah, Ellen will take care of you. You tell her John isn't allowed to see you, got it? He's not allowed to even know you're there."

"You won't even come in with me?"

"Maybe just to use the bathroom. But I'm not staying here. John'll hunt me down, not you. I'll be priority one, so you have to be away from me."

"I get it, Dean. You wouldn't split us up if you didn't think it was best." Ellen, when they arrive, is absolutely livid at John. She swears "on the life of her dear Joanna Beth" that John will not get anywhere near Sam and offers Dean a room as well. Dean declines, uses the bathroom, and accepts her help in resetting his dislocated shoulder. As soon as Sam is settled in and getting doctored up by Jo, Dean darts out, still struggling with his injured leg, but he waves Ellen off when she tries to fix it for him. He might actually need to see a doctor for it.

He drives for four hours before he finally pulls into the diner parking lot. Dean stumbles up the stairs, each step heavy and a struggle, but thoughts of Cas keep him moving.

" _When you need something, I'm here."_ Please let that offer still stand. Dean keeps moving, the limp fading as excitement sends adrenaline through his veins. Finally, he's at the door. _Maybe I should wait 'till morning. It is late, after all._ But he raises his hand and knocks.


	10. Chapter 10

**Oh, my gosh, you guys. Your reviews are so nice! It's so great to know that you are enjoying the story! I wasn't entirely sure about it when I started it, but with every chapter and review, I love it even more. Please, keep letting me know what you think and what you want to see.**

 **Without further ado, as promised, here is my Destiel reunion!**

* * *

Cas moves to the door quickly, having to restrain himself from running. When he throws it open, he half expected to see Dean looking the same as he had before: happy, fresh shaven, in worn but clean clothes, and looking hot as hell. Instead, he sees a man struggling to keep his eyes open as he fights to stay upright.

"Cas-" Dean chokes out.

"Dean! Oh, my God, what happened to you?"

"Can't-" Dean gasps for breath, "can't tell you. It isn't safe for you to know. It isn't even a good idea for me to be here, but- I needed to see you."

"You are always welcome here, but you need a hospital."

"No!" Dean cries, desperately. "No hospitals. He'll find me if I do."

"Alright, alright. Come in, then. Let's get this blood off you, okay?" Cas notices Dean's limp and scoots around to support him, leaping away when Dean cries out.

"Sorry, dislocated my shoulder. It's set, but still hurts. Other side." Cas nods and moves to Dean's other side, taking some of his weight and practically carrying him to the bathroom. He settles Dean on the closed lid of the toilet and grabs a washcloth and his first aid kit.

"Do you need anything for the pain? Do you have any broken bones? Any other dislocations I should know about?"

"Ribs are bad. He hit my temple pretty hard. Maybe a concussion, but I've had those before. Can handle that. Broken ribs need to be wrapped. Going to have to stop using my arm for a little bit. Can you check my left leg? It feels bad, but I don't know what he did to it." Cas nods along with Dean's injury catalogue. If he had to guess, whoever did this hit Dean more than once in the face. There's scrapes all over his face and surrounding his eyes. His nose is bleeding, but doesn't look broken.

"What hurts on your leg? I'll check that out first, since that's your main complaint."

"Ankle. Think he may have kicked it, but I don't remember everything perfectly."

"Okay, don't worry about it. I'll check it out. Just a second. Can I take your boot off?"

"Yeah, 'course." Cas unties and unlaces the boot on his left foot, wanting to limit any pain Dean may feel. It slides off revealing a bruised ankle, but it doesn't appear to be broken, or even sprained. There's not enough swelling for either. "It doesn't look too bad, actually. It might just hurt worse because you've got so many injuries."

"Maybe."

"I think it's just twisted. I'll go ahead and wrap it up for you. You'll have to be careful on it for a little while, but it'll be okay. If it doesn't seem to be getting any better in the next few days, you will be seeing an actual doctor for it, okay? I don't want a broken bone to heal wrong."

"Fair enough."

"What do I need to do for your face?" Cas picks up the washcloth and wipes away the remaining blood.

"Suture strips on the worst cuts. The ones that look more like scrapes will heal on their own." Cas pulls them out and goes straight to the worst wound. He sticks it together like he's done it a hundred times and does a few more cuts, but leaves the rest alone.

"I'm going to put some neosporin on a few of these, but aside from that, I think we're just about done here." When they're done, Cas helps Dean strip and get into bed.

"Please, Dean, tell me what happened." Cas' heart breaks when a single tear slips down Dean's cheek. "I don't have to know details, just an overview."

"I can't let him hurt you."

"So don't tell me who it is, just why he did this to you. Please, Dean, I'm thinking the worst right now. Was this because of your job?"

"No, this wasn't. I've gotten hurt while working before, but this time it was something else." Dean seems to struggle to find the words. Cas takes his hand and sits, cross legged, next to his hip, content to wait while Dean tries to explain. "I- Well, I have to take care of Sammy, see, that's my job. Keep him safe, within my sight. I left Sammy alone and John, he found out. So he punched me and went to spend time with Sam. I stayed away for an hour or two. He had told Sam I was getting food, but it shouldn't have taken that long and he, I guess, was drinking. He took me outside when Sam left the room for a little while, to teach me a lesson. Sammy walked up on him hitting me and didn't react well. I tried to get him to drop it, to leave, to forget what he saw, but Sam is too kind-hearted. He knocked John on his ass. John didn't react well, started beating on Sam, too. I- I stabbed him. At the base of his neck. He didn't die, but it definitely hurt like hell and gave us time to run away. He won't let us go for long, though. I've got to come up with a long-term solution."

"Where is Sam?"

"I left him with some friends. He needs to be away from me to be safe." Dean's voice breaks on the last word. "You actually believe me?" Cas barely holds back his own tears. _Who was this John and how did he manage to break such a beautiful man so thoroughly?_

"I believe you, Dean, of course I do. You're staying here, okay? I don't want you to leave. Let me take care of you. You're safe, got it? Does he have any idea where you would go?"

"No. I didn't tell him anything about you, just that we spent some time together."

"Good. Then, as long as you don't use your phone or cards here, he can't find you. Does Sam have my number?" Dean nods. "Let's turn your phone off so he can't trace it. I don't know the whole situation, Dean, but taking care of your brother isn't the only thing you're good for. You have to know that. And know you're welcome here as long as you want to stay." Cas moves over to Dean's jacket and pulls out his phone. As he turns it off, he barely hears Dean's soft whisper.

"Could stay with you forever and never wanna leave." When he turns to face his beautiful, shattered friend- _boyfriend? Roommate?-_ he's already asleep. Cas wishes he could say that he finally looked peaceful in his sleep, but his face was still scrunched from pain and his body tense. _He's never known peace. He's always had to be a soldier._


	11. Chapter 11

**My work schedule just changed so I'm now working Wednesday through Monday for the next three weeks and I'm already exhausted. How wonderful. That's why I haven't updated in a while. Anyway, this chapter could be a bit triggering, and due to that, I tried to stay away from too much detail. Still, it is Teen!chester sexual abuse and if that topic makes you uncomfortable, skip the italics, which are the flashback/dream. Can you tell I really don't like John? Well, in any event, here's another chapter.**

* * *

" _That your son?" Some red-neck with a beard and rough voice thumbs to Dean as he speaks to John._

" _He is." John leans back and waits for the other man to speak. Dean looks to his shoes, knowing what is coming. Another hundred or two dollars in his father's pocket for an hour of Dean's time. That's another night in a motel and some food in Sammy's stomach._ Could buy him supplies for peanut butter sandwiches, _Dean reminds himself,_ Just focus on Sammy. You'll be fine.

 _But would he really? He already had enough nightmares. This would be one more in the long list of things John has done to him. John had taught him how to play pool well enough to hustle a few hundred bucks off drunk idiots, but this money is faster and easier._

" _He's pretty. What's his name?" Curse his stupid pretty eyes and pretty freckles and pretty cheekbones and pretty jaw. If he wasn't pretty- if he was scarred, fat, ugly, anything but pretty- John couldn't do this to him. But he's pretty, so John does._

 _It was terrifying the first time. He was just barely thirteen. Back then, it was harder to find people interested in him, mostly because he was so young. But now he's sixteen and looks more than old enough and strong enough to stand what they can do to him, so they practically line up to put some cash in John's hand. Now, instead of going out once or twice a month, they go out once or twice a week._

" _Dean." His real name? Why? "You want some time with him?"_

" _How much for an hour?" The guy smirks, slips his thumbs into his front pockets, and looks Dean up and down again._

" _Two-fifty to do what you want."_

" _And just the basics?"_

" _Two hundred."_

" _What's the extra fifty for?"_

" _Any medical supplies I might need to get for him. I charge more if you break a bone or sprain something, mind you. You pay hospital bills, too, if it comes to that."_

" _I'll take that deal." The man reaches into his back pocket and draws out a wallet, slapping two hundred and fifty dollars into John's outstretched hand. John smiles._

" _You have a room?" The man just grabs Dean's arm without answering and drags him down the hall to his room where he proceeds to gag, tie, beat, and fuck Dean for the next hour. As he leaves, he presses an extra hundred into John's hand when he returns Dean, who is nursing a sprained wrist._

" _Stop crying, boy," John snaps, smacking Dean on his already bruised cheek. "It's a sprain. Not a bullet."_

" _Sorry, sir," a broken Dean whispers. "I'm sorry."_

"Sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry." The words fall from Dean's lips over and over. He can't make them stop. Someone shakes him.

"Dean, wake up. Please, you're having a nightmare. Please wake up, Dean." Cas' voice breaks through the dream and he lurches awake.

"Cas," he coughs.

"It's okay, Dean," warm arms wrap around him, "I've got you. You're safe. You're okay."

"Hate that dream."

"I know, but Dean, it's just a dream, it's not real. I promise. This, here, is real. I'm real."

"Memory." Cas tenses slightly.

"That was a memory? But, Dean, you were begging someone to stop."

"I don't-"

"Don't want to talk about it. Okay, Dean. Whatever you need. When you're ready to tell me what happened to you, who did this to you, I'm here. I'll always be here, like I promised."

"John," Dean suddenly remembers why he's with Cas. "Sammy."

"You're fine, Dean. Sam has my number, remember? He'll call me if he needs you and we turned off your phone so John can't track it."

"My other phones, though. He can track them. And he could find my car. I shouldn't have come here. All I've done is put you in danger." _Stupid! What a stupid idea from a stupid soldier!_

"Hush. I'll be fine. He's not likely to look here. What other phones? You have more?"

"My job isn't safe. We keep extra phones. Most of mine are off, but I have a few on, just in case."

"Okay, then, tell me where to find them, and I'll bring them up. You can turn off the ones that are on and John won't be able to find you."

"What about the car?"

"Phones first, car later. Let's take this one step at a time."

"The phones are in my car, in the glove compartment. There's also a duffel in the trunk. It's got all my things in it. I can go, just let me up."

"No. I'll go."

"Cas."

"Dean. You're hurt. You need to heal. I'm not letting you hurt yourself more than you already are." _Well, shit. He can't find out._

"Fine. Jacket pocket for the keys."

"Thank you, Dean." Cas nods sharply and stands, collecting the keys and vanishing to get the phones and duffel, leaving Dean alone with his thoughts. If he had really cared about Cas, would he have come here? How will Cas react when he finds out what Dean does? That he's a killer? No, poorly, and with hatred and disgust. So why is he here? Why Cas?

 _I love him. I need him. He calms the storm inside me. I don't need to be a good little soldier with him._

Cas returns and they sort through the phones, turning them all off and making Dean a little safer.

"We need to get you cleaned up. You can't stand on that ankle for long, so I'll help you shower."

"Alright," Dean agrees without thinking. Cas smiles.

"After you shower, I'll check your wounds again, then I can see about moving your car to Gabe's garage. He actually has a house, but no car, so his garage is empty."

"Would he do that for me?"

"He knows what you mean to me, so yes." _What do I mean to you?_ Dean searches Cas' eyes, but can't understand the answer lurking in them. He keeps the question to himself and let's Cas help him undress.


	12. Chapter 12

**Hey, guys! I really wish it hadn't taken me this long to get this chapter up, but I was struggling with another one of my stories, so I was trying to focus on that. This chapter also meant quite a bit to me. As someone who has been on both sides of self harm, I know first hand how devastating it can be to find something like that out and I also know how I wish my family had responded. And while I know this isn't a therapy session, I was treated like a criminal when my parents found out, told I was doing it to hurt them, and blamed when my mom got hurt throwing out one of my blades. So writing Cas' reaction as one of almost understanding both made me feel a little better and a little worse. I wish, as I'm sure so many others do, that someone cared enough to try to understand why someone might self harm. (I also feel this is the time to point out that my PM is always open for anyone who needs to talk about something along those lines. If you're ever struggling, I get alerts whenever something happens on this account, so I'll get back to you as soon as I see it and am more than happy to help with whatever you need.)**

 **That said, I hope you like it.**

* * *

"Sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry." The words falling from Dean's lips make Cas' heart stutter. Not a minute ago, he was begging, screaming, for someone to stop. Still, Cas can't wake him. He shakes Dean's shoulders again.

"Dean, wake up. Please, you're having a nightmare. Please wake up, Dean." Cas stumbles back when Dean surges up off the pillow, suddenly awake.

"Cas," he coughs.

"It's okay, Dean," Cas wraps Dean in a gentle hug, trying not to hit any injuries, "I've got you. You're safe. You're okay."

"Hate that dream."

"I know, but Dean, it's just a dream, it's not real. I promise. This, here, is real. I'm real."

"Memory." Cas tenses, having not been prepared for that. Nightmares he knows he can handle, Gabe can't handle scary movies, but a past so traumatic Dean dreams about it? How could he possibly help Dean through that?

"That was a memory? But, Dean, you were begging someone to stop." What happened to him? Was this about whoever hurt him last night? Is that what he was dreaming about?

"I don't-"

"Don't want to talk about it. Okay, Dean. Whatever you need. When you're ready to tell me what happened to you, who did this to you, I'm here. I'll always be here, like I promised."

"John," Dean gasps. Is the name good or bad? Then, Dean adds, "Sammy."

"You're fine, Dean. Sam has my number, remember? He'll call me if he needs you and we turned off your phone so John can't track it."

"My other phones, though. He can track them. And he could find my car. I shouldn't have come here. All I've done is put you danger." What does he do that requires more than one phone? Focus, Cas, keep Dean safe.

"Hush. I'll be fine. He's not likely to look here. What other phones? You have more?"

"My job isn't safe. We keep extra phones. Most of mine are off, but I have a few on, just in case." Yeah, I can see that your job is unsafe.

"Okay, then, tell me where to find them, and I'll bring them up. You can turn off the ones that are on and John won't be able to find you."

"What about the car?"

"Phones first, car later. Let's take this one step at a time."

"The phones are in my car, in the glove compartment. There's also a duffel in the trunk. It's got all my things in it. I can go, just let me up." Nope. No way. Dean is far too hurt to be walking around. Besides, his ankle would never bear his weight.

"No. I'll go."

"Cas."

"Dean. You're hurt. You need to heal. I'm not letting you hurt yourself more than you already are." Well, shit. He can't find out.

"Fine. Jacket pocket for the keys."

"Thank you, Dean." Cas nods sharply and stands, collecting the keys and hurrying out to the car. He roots through the glove compartment, finding a small brown box. He opens it and finds a stash of- wallets? I need phones. Another box, the only other one, contains so many phones Cas almost drops it in surprise, but he manages to compose himself. He rushes the box up to Dean and together they take another step to ensuring his safety.

"We need to get you cleaned up. You can't stand on that ankle for long, so I'll help you shower." Cas smiles when Dean agrees automatically. At least he's not being stubborn. Probably because he's too weak. Cas almost flinches at that thought. On second thought, I'll take the arguing.

"After you shower, I'll check your wounds again, then I can see about moving your car to Gabe's garage. He actually has a house, but no car, so his garage is empty."

"Would he do that for me?"

"He knows what you mean to me, so yes." Dean's eyes meet his and Cas can see the question floating in them. He only hopes Dean can understand the answer swimming in his own. Dean turns away and strips his shirt off and suddenly, Cas doesn't worry about whether or not Dean could tell he loves him. He is hurt everywhere and Cas cringes with every move Dean makes, imagining the pain he must be in.

Then, Dean slides his pants down and a pain Cas has never known before tears through him. His Dean is in so much mental pain that he takes a blade to his skin- on top of the beating he's already received. Hot tears prick Cas' eyes and, try as he might, he can't blink them away, but they don't fall, either.

"Dean," he whispers, but can't say another word.

"I'm sorry," Cas looks into pain filled eyes at Dean's soft words.

"No! No, Dean, don't be sorry. Someone caused this pain, not you, I only wish I could take some of it." Cas watches as the tears spill over Dean's lashes; first, just one, falling alone, then dozens all at once. Dean's broad shoulders shake as Cas pulls him close, struggling to breathe under the weight suddenly constructing his chest. How didn't I know? How didn't I see his pain?

"Is there anything else, Dean? What else did this monster cause?" Dean's shoulders shake a little harder, before he gets his answer.

"Alcohol." As he had expected. "And- and morphine." The worst combination Cas could imagine. Alcohol and morphine together were dangerous, a poison cocktail guaranteed to have nasty consequences. Morphine and cutting together, however, were a recipe for disaster and, quite possibly, death.

"God, Dean, I'm so sorry." Carefully, Cas guides the man he loves under the hot spray of water, wishing there was a way he could help Dean without forcing him into rehab.

"For what it's worth," Dean whispers the words that could make it all better, "you're better than any drug, drink, or knife."


	13. Chapter 13

**Hey! I don't really have too much to say before letting you get to the story, but I do have a few words. I want to firstly thank everyone who reviewed. It's so wonderful to know that you guys are enjoying the story as much as I like writing it. I also want to let you know that I'm going to try to get another chapter up in the next week, but things for me are kind of unsteady for me right now as I'm getting ready to leave for my first year at college. So, bear with me if I'm a bit flakey for the next month or so. I'm just trying to find a routine that allows me plenty of time to give you my best writing!**

 **Alright, without further ado, here's chapter 13!**

* * *

A week later, with Dean on his feet and finally seeming a bit more like himself, even if he is always on edge, he decides to sit in the diner with Cas. Cas spends the few hours going through his paperwork while Dean attempts to find John. There's a cute little crease between Cas' brows as he concentrates. Math, he claims, was never his best subject, meaning the numbers on the page are tricky for him to understand, despite owning the diner for a few years.

The laptop in front of Dean is driving him mad. Sam was always better with technology. If he were here, he'd have probably found John by now. Well, maybe that's an exaggeration, but at least he'd be able to open that window thingy where you can type in what you want the computer to do. _What was that called? It's the thing spies use when hacking._ If that doesn't explain just how much technology baffles Dean, nothing else will. Eventually, he gives up on finding it and instead uses Google to try to find places his father might have gone to. Still, John isn't predictable, so that's basically useless.

Yeah, so, maybe he's not really searching for John. He's pretending to search for him while actually investigating the surrounding areas for a hunt. Not that he'd be able to take care of it. But at least he'd be able to tell Ellen so she could send someone. An article catches his eye. "Local Hero Attacked by Brothers." His eyes dart across the page, reading as quickly as he can. The whole story, although fictional, would account for every injury they had all received, but it paints him and Sam as the attackers. John's name was conveniently changed and the fact that he was their abusive father was also left out. Anything to turn the heat on them. Thankfully, he had claimed to never have met them before, so he couldn't provide a picture or accurate sketch.

"Dean? What's wrong?" He knows what Cas is expecting- the withdrawal hasn't been good since he quit all three drugs in one fell swoop- and for a moment debates telling him the truth.

"It's John. He lied to the police about his injury. Means Sam and I can never go back there. They'll be looking for us."

"What?" Cas growls, eyes flashing angrily. "Let me see." His face gets darker the more of the article he reads and Dean has to resist the urge to hide. Cas would never hurt him, he believes that, but then, he's never seen Cas this angry before.

"That bastard," he snarls, "who does he think he is?"

"Cas," Dean's voice is soft. _You sound weak!_ "Maybe I should turn myself into them. In jail, he wouldn't be able to get to me."

"Maybe he wouldn't be able to physically, but you know as well as I do there's a high chance he knows someone on the inside who could. And Dean," Cas takes his hand, meeting his eyes, "I would never let you do that. You can't leave me, okay?" Dean nods and lets Cas comfort him, almost embarrassed to need the support, but this is Cas. It's the same as if he hugged Sammy. _They don't judge me. They love me, the same way I love them._

It takes great self control not to jerk at the thought. He loves Cas. Dean struggles to process the realization. What if Cas doesn't feel the same way? Would he send Dean away? He isn't sure he could handle losing his only comfort at this point. He wouldn't be able to continue. Hell, he'd probably even end up back where he was before. No probably about it, actually, he'd be back to using morphine, alcohol, and blood to keep himself sane and there was no way he'd ever clean himself up again if Cas sent him away.

"Dean? It's about lunchtime. Would you like some soup here or upstairs?"

"What kind of soup?" Dean doesn't answer the question, too nervous about making the wrong choice. It's his first time down in the diner since he arrived because he was too hurt. Besides, he doesn't even know if he wants to leave or not.

"Tomato and rice. You mentioned your mom made it for you when you were younger, so I wanted to give you something happy." Dean cracks a smile. Maybe he doesn't need to worry about Cas sending him away. Cas had remembered his comfort food. "If you eat enough, you can even have a slice of pie."

"Apple?"

"Sure, baby. Now, do you want to eat here, or upstairs?"

"Um…" He hesitates, just long enough for Cas to speak.

"Dean, really, I don't mind either way. Wherever you feel safest is fine with me."

"Well, I want to eat here, with you, but I don't really like all the other people."

"How about we eat in my office? Best of both worlds, right?" Dean smiles and nods, grateful Cas had been able to find that compromise. He never would've been able to come up with that. _You've never had trouble eating around other people, so why now, weakling?_ Was it the trauma of John beating him bringing back all the times John hadn't let him eat? That was a favorite punishment of his, making Dean sit and watch while John ate both their portions. Sometimes, he would do that every meal of the day for several days in a row, allowing Dean only water. Dean shivers, shaking off the memory. Cas would never do that to him.

Soup in hand, Cas leads them to the office. Dean assumes he'll go back for the pie. After all, it can't be easy carrying two bowls filled to the brim at once. As soon as it's set in front of him, Dean digs in, finding peace in the flavour and comfort in getting another meal.


	14. Chapter 14

**That hiatus lasted far longer than I intended. Hope you all are loving the new season! I know I am!**

 **I spent a while on this chapter. It was harder for me since I don't easily get into the "bad guy" headspace. I hope you like it and intend to have the next chapter up in a week or so- no more three month hiatus' for me!**

 **Thanks for everyone who reviews and Enjoy!**

* * *

John doesn't sleep. Okay, maybe he gets four hours every few days, but he'd never admit it. And now, he's getting even less sleep, having to hunt down the two good for nothing, snot nosed brats for sons. Sammy- he used to be okay, acceptable, even loveable. He was who Mary died to save, so John would give anything to protect him. Or, at least, he would've.

A cruel sneer creeps across John's face. He flips his laptop open, skimming through articles to find a case. He needs something to kill. After all, nothing is stopping him from going to pick up his son- and, he supposes, the stupid soldier who turned Sam against him.

Of course, Dean is the one he wants to hurt, so maybe he should get him first. _Find a case, John. Work out your anger, then settle on the best attack plan._ His fingers fly, letting him scan articles as fast as his eyes can read. Of course, finding the patterns is the hardest part. But then, John has a brilliant mind. _One I could be using to torture Dean._ Instead, he zeros in on a small town in Ohio, far away from Sam and the weak soldier.

It's easy enough, once he realizes the first death isn't natural. Back and back he searches, finding articles and death reports dating back to the early twenties. Given that the creature only kills once a decade or so, he isn't surprised no one else noticed it. Especially since the Internet didn't exist not to long ago. Sam might've seen it.

Sam: the perfect son. Brilliant, a great fighter, and utterly independent. Sure, he argued, talked back, and they fought, but Sam is strong. He wants to know all the facts before jumping into a case, see all the angles. John commends him for this. After all, he does the same. The main reason John and Sam butted heads so much is their similarities. Small differences set them apart, like Sam's soft heart, but all their major personality traits were the same.

Dean, however. Well, Dean is no leader. He follows orders, has no brain to speak of, and really is your average grunt. Any other dummy with two brain cells to rub together, anger and alcohol issues, a bunch of muscle, and the ability to follow orders would be able to take his place. Why should John care about him? The fact that he makes so many mistakes is the only reason John hurts him. And the boy never fought back.

All this swirls through John's mind as he pieces together information on the wendigo he's going to hunt. Soon, he's centered enough to pack his bags up and leave for the hunt. The drive doesn't take too long but the hunt itself clears his mind.

As one of the strongest hunters alive, no hunt takes him very long, besides the demon who killed Mary. Back in his hotel room, John starts to plan. The biggest question in his mind is whether or not to kill Dean.

It is something to consider. _But it's boring and expected._ No, it's probably better to make the boy suffer first. Kill him eventually, but put him through hell first. Dean should've killed him if he didn't want John to hunt them both down.

John flicks his laptop open, fingers flying across the tracking device he'd placed on the Impala blinks on a map. _So predictable._ It seems Dean ran to the man he'd left Sam alone for. Fool.

* * *

Now, knowing the way John had treated Dean, it breaks Cas' heart to watch him eat. Dean had never said it, but Cas can tell John had starved him. He doesn't come up for air until his entire plate is clear, like he thinks someone will take it from him. Cas is barely halfway through his bowl when Dean is done with his.

"Just a moment, I'll get the pie." _I'm growing to hate this John more and more. How could anyone hurt someone as sweet and caring as Dean?_ Cas lifts out two slices of pie onto their plates. Once the slice is set in front of Dean, Cas' phone starts ringing. "It's Gabe. I need to take this." Dean gestures that it's alright, mouth already full.

"Hey, what's up? Please don't tell me you're sick. I'm not a good enough cook to fill in for you."

"No, no," Gabe chuckles, "it's not that. I just was getting ready to leave and noticed a truck drive past real slow. Almost too slow. I thought you'd want to know."

"Just a minute." Cas pokes his head back into the office. "What kind of car does John drive? I'm sorry to ask." Dean looks stricken for a moment, but answers without hesitation.

"A black Ford, at the moment. Why?"

"I'll explain later. Be right back." Cas returns to Gabe. "Was it a black Ford?"

"Yep. Think it's him or a coincidence?"

"The chances that happened just after we moved Dean's car to your garage are too slim for it to be coincidence. I just don't know how to tell Dean."

"Tell him I might've seen his car. Tell him to stay in the apartment as much as possible. Until that truck is out of town, he might show up in the diner."

"God, I hate him. Thanks, Gabe. I've gotta talk to Dean. See you in a bit." They hang up and Cas leans against the wall. _What do I do now? I can't let John take him. I'll do whatever it takes._


	15. Chapter 15

**Hey, everyone! This is finally where we're going to start seeing things come to a head, so I hope you like it!**

 **I just want to let you know, there's probably only going to be a few more chapters. However, if anyone would like to request/suggest a story idea, please feel free to send me a message! As always, your reviews are much appreciated and I'd like to write more of what you like, so just let me know.**

 **And, without further ado, chapter 15**

* * *

John checks the GPS once more. The drive-by last week hadn't given the results he'd anticipated. Sure, that's where the Impala is parked, but only one person looked outside. It definitely wasn't Dean and John knows the person he's looking for owns a diner, so it couldn't have been the owner either. They would've been at work.

His eyes lift, scanning the Roadhouse. This is the only place Sam would've gone to hide. Dean isn't stupid enough to keep Sam with him, so chances are, Sam is here. Of course, John can quite clearly see Sam moving around in the back. Only one person he knows is that tall, so it must be him.

The golden boy should've kept his nose out of John's business. John can't just bury the love he has for his son, but he can push it to the side and ignore it for a little while. Long enough to kidnap the over-grown child and use him to torture his bratty older brother.

He adjusts the binoculars, seeking out Ellen, Jo, and Ash. They're the only ones who have access to the living quarters where Sam is. A cruel smile crawls across his face. They're all in the bar, leaving Sammy entirely alone.

Steady fingers load a tranquilizer dart into a gun. It shouldn't be too difficult to hit the tall man, but making sure he doesn't hit the ground could prove troubling. _Wait for him to go to the bathroom, sneak in. Shoot when he comes back and catch him before he falls._ Good, good. A plan. And it won't be long before Sam has to use the restroom. He just drank three beers. Must not be a lot to do cooped up in the Roadhouse like that.

Sure enough, the boy wanders into the bathroom, closing the door, in the next twenty minutes. Not a long wait at all. John slinks along the wall to the window, slides it open silently, and slips through. _I could close it, but this gives him a reason to go to the window. I'll have to carry him less, then._ So John leaves the window open and crosses the room to stand next to the hinges of the bathroom door. The gun is cocked and held at the ready.

The toilet flushes and water runs in the sink. There's a few seconds of stretched silence before the door opens, enough to let Sam out, but not enough to hit John. Good. Almost instantly, Sam stops, staring at the gaping window. Wind rustles the curtains. But then the giant crosses the room to close it. Truthfully, he never stood a chance.

* * *

"Dean? I'm getting a call from Sam's number." Dean sits up at Cas' words. It's almost time for the dinner rush. Cas should be downstairs.

"Why did he call?"

"That's the thing, Dean." Cas' eyes crinkle, concern scrunching his face. "It's not him on the line. It's a woman. Ellen." Without another word, Dean snatches the phone. Maybe he should be more polite, but Cas will understand.

"Ellen? What's wrong?" He's not sure if it's a sob or panicked cough he hears on the other end of the line, but Ellen doesn't cry, so it can't be the first.

"It's Sam. He's missing. He was here and then he just wasn't." Ellen speaks in a rush. "He's been staying in our guest room during opening hours. He only comes out after we lock up. That room has some amazing security covering the doors. Ash set it up before we moved him in. Someone managed to get to Sam without going through the door."

"Is there a window?"

"Yes, but it was closed and locked, so they couldn't have gone that way."

"Never underestimate John. He's far craftier than I'd care to admit. If anyone could find a way to lock a window from the outside, it'd be him."

"I'm so sorry, Dean. We never considered that."

"It's not your fault, Ellen. It's John's. I've got to go. I need to find a way to get Sam back."

"If there's anything we can do to help, you just call."

They hang up and Cas takes the phone back. Dean sits woodenly, staring dead ahead, panicking. _What if he treats Sam the way he did me? What if he kills him? I've failed._ His head drops back and a wail builds in his throat. Strong arms loop around him.

"Don't worry, Dean. I've got you." Cas smooths his hands up and down Dean's back. "It's going to be okay. Want to come sit with me for the dinner rush?" Without giving Dean a chance to say no, Cas takes his hand and leads the way to the diner. Even once a meal is placed in front of him, Dean finds himself unable to eat. _I have to find Sammy._

Several hours later, a familiar rumble pulls into the parking lot. Dean turns, clocking the vehicle instantly. He waits a half an hour while the hunter eats, then discretely follows them out to the truck with a murmur to a waitress that he's stepping outside for a minute.

"You know I have him," John sneers, "so just get in the truck and we'll be on our merry way. No one else has to get hurt." Dean nods silently, eyes on the ground in front of him, and gets into the truck. There's no other choice, after all.


	16. Chapter 16

**Hi! So, I just want to let everyone know that I'm binging this fic to a close. I know it's a bit short, but I feel like I'm running low on ideas for it and, well, I think you'll understand at the end of the chapter. Thank you so much for reading this, I'm so grateful and glad you enjoyed it! I know I've been slow at updating at times, but I really appreciate you sticking with me. If you have any requests or story ideas, please feel free to send me a message and I'll see what I can do.**

 **Until next time, enjoy!**

* * *

"Dean just got into a truck with someone," Gabe mutters to Cas. The blue-eyed man sighs. Just as he expected. John showed his face. "It was the same truck as last time. Want me to track it?"

"We've got to make it through the last of this rush. Give him some time to get closer to wherever he's keeping Sam."

"How are you going to get him back?"

"I wasn't special forces for no reason."

"Are you going to bring anyone with you?"

"I'll take Balthazar with me, but I should be able to handle one man on his own."

"Didn't Dean say he was a Marine?"

"I don't care. I'm still better than him."

About forty five minutes later, Cas slips out of the diner to make a call.

"Balthazar? Hey, man, I need your help making someone disappear. When can you be here?"

"Give me ten. You have your brother searching for him?"

"As we speak." There's no doubt in his mind that as soon as Gabe noticed Cas had left, he started tracking John. He'll be able to find him almost anywhere.

"Good. On my way." Balthazar hangs up, leaving Cas pacing behind Gabe while he waits for information.

"I've got him," Gabe announces twenty minutes later, "and I've got blueprints."

Balthazar and Cas load up on weapons. Balthazar was always good at making sure bodies and cars disappeared. Cas was better at the actual killing part. So they'll keep the same routine tonight. Cas will handle the monster, Balthazar will clean it up.

Slipping his favorite gun into the holster at his lower back, Cas gets into the car and races off. He knows better than to park outside, so he ditches the car two blocks away and runs from there. Across the street, he lifts a pair of binoculors and searches the building. Dean and Sam are in the same room, tied up, and seemingly unconscious. John is busy doing something in the next room.

Cas could enter through the windows into either room or the front door. John will definitely hear him if he goes in through the window. The front door is his best bet at launching a sneak attack. He can leave it open so it doesn't make any excess noise. His decision made, he strides across the street and opens the door silently.

Inside, he practically holds his breath, making sure to remain absolutely silent. His boots make barely a whisper against the ground as he treads through the house to the room John was in. Cas peaks in. _Damn it!_ John's moved, likely to the room Dean's in. _I didn't want to fight in front of Dean, but if I have to, then so be it. It's worth it._ He sneaks next door and glances through the crack in the door. Sam appears to still be unconscious to the untrained eye, but he's wincing every so often. Dean is wide awake, though, likely thanks to John's punching him.

 _Stay strong, baby, I'll get you._ Cas draws a knife from his boot. It's too dangerous to use a gun with Sam and Dean so close. If he were to fire and miss, he could hit one of them and that cannot happen. Carefully, he nudges the door open far enough to fit through and steps through quietly. John doesn't notice, but Dean does. His apple green eyes go wide, panic coloring his face.

"Finally scared, idiot?" John snarls. "Don't worry, I'm sure no one will notice you're missing. Even if they do, they won't look for you. After all, why should they care? You're _you_."

"Maybe because I love him," Cas announces. He can't listen to John talk down to Dean like that. It's too painful.

John spins, seeing Cas, and lets out an explicative, but doesn't hesitate. He throws a punch. Cas easily blocks it.

"Cas, you shouldn't be here," Dean groans. "You need to run."

"Don't worry about me," Cas grunts, "I know what I'm doing."

"Do you now," John sneers, "did you know I'm an ex-Marine? There's no way you beat me."

"Except that I was special forces. One of the groups that's not supposed to exist. So," Cas smiles cruelly, "really, there's no way _you_ beat _me_." And the two begin fighting in ernest. John clearly has been keeping his skills sharp. But it doesn't matter. Cas, technically, hasn't retired yet. His team isn't supposed to exist, so they let it's members live normal lives until they're needed for a mission. It isn't often, maybe two or three times a year. _I'll have to explain that to Dean._ John lands a blow. _Focus, dummy!_ Cas lets fly a flurry of punches, taking John down to his knees.

"Dean, any qualms about me killing him?"

"No," Sam says in a dead voice, "do it." So he does. And like that, it's over.

"Come on," Cas murmurs, cutting their bonds, "let's get out of here."

"What about the body?" Dean manages to choke out.

"Someone will take care of it. We don't need to worry. For now, just focus on walking." Cas turns to Sam. "Are you injured?"

"No," the tall brother shakes his head, "he was focused on Dean. I was pretending to still be asleep."

"Good." Cas leads them to his car, supporting Dean the whole way. He'd taken a few hits to the head and it knocked his center of balance.

"It's okay, Dean. You're okay now. You're safe."


	17. Chapter 17

**Hey, everyone! Sorry this is so short (and late, as usual), but this is the end of the story. I don't have anywhere else to take it. Maybe sometime I'll do an epilogue as a one-shot, but that'll only happen if some people express an interest in it, so let me know how you thought this went!**

 **Hope you like it!**

* * *

Is it really over? Did Cas really save him? How? Dean's mind is reeling as they struggle to the car. His injuries aren't nearly as bad as last time, but he feels far more off balance.

"Cas-"

"Wait until we get home, Dean. We need to see to your injuries, then I'll explain."

"Don't care, Cas," he grumbles, "just glad you're okay. As long as you're safe, I don't care." Cas smiles at him, blue eyes meeting his in the rearview mirror.

"Still, you deserve to know."

"I'll explain my job to you, too." But before he can, Dean feels the world around him blur into blackness.

He wakes up in bed, the curtains drawn shut and the room practically black.

"Cas?" He calls out, struggling to sit up.

"One second, Dean," his boyfriend's voice calls, "I'll be right there." Sure enough, moments later, Cas comes through the door with a bowl balanced on his hand. Probably broth.

"Are you okay? Did he hurt you?"

"He only hit me once, Dean, and it wasn't that bad. I'm perfectly fine minus a small bruise." Cas moves next to him and sets the bowl on his lap. "Drink this. When you wake up in the morning, you can have some real breakfast. Now, Sam explained everything about your job to me. I don't care if you keep doing it, just make sure you come back to me and stay safe. I'll do the same when I go on my missions. I'm part of a black ops team. We aren't technically an official team, so very few people know of our existence. We only do two or three jobs a year, so I won't be gone often, or for very long."

"I told you, as long as your safe, I don't care. I'm glad, though, that Sam explained. I wouldn't have known where to start."

"Dean?"

"Yes, Cas?"

"Stay with me. Forever." Dean looks up into the eyes of the man he loves and his answer falls from his lips without hesitation.

"Yes."

* * *

With Dean sleeping soundly on the bed, Cas finally leaves the room. Dean will need food when he wakes up, so Cas makes him some broth.

"Cas?"

"One second, Dean," Cas calls, "I'll be right there." He steps through the door, seeing Dean trying to sit up in bed.

"Are you okay? Did he hurt you?" Cas smiles to himself. Dean is the one hurt, but his only concern is Cas. It's too sweet of him. Dean always puts others first- that's one of Cas' favorite things about him.

"He only hit me once, Dean, and it wasn't that bad. I'm perfectly find minus a small bruise." Cas sits next to Dean, careful not to jostle the bed too much, and hands him the bowl. "Drink this. When you wake up in the morning, you can have some real breakfast. Now, Sam explained everything about your job to me. I don't care if you keep doing it, just make sure you come back to me and stay safe. I'll do the same when I go on my missions. I'm part of a black ops team. We aren't technically an official team, so very few people know of our existence. We only do two or three jobs a year, so I won't be gone often, or for very long." Cas practically holds his breath, waiting for Dean's reaction. Telling him that was much harder than he'd thought it'd be. Maybe Dean won't want to stay with him because of it.

"I told you, as long as you're safe, I don't care. I'm glad though, that Sam explained. I wouldn't have known where to start." Relief floods Cas, and a bit of humor, too. Yes, the younger brother is much better with words than Dean is, but it still took him a while to explain.

"Dean?" Alright, moment of truth.

"Yes, Cas?"

"Stay with me, forever." Apple green eyes meet his own sky blue ones and as the answer falls from Dean's mouth without even a moment's hesitation, he couldn't be happier.

"Yes."


End file.
